Author: jim clayton

dog fit

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

Do dogs look like their owners?
Or vice versa?
(in which case
I’m a long-haired
type of inertia)

The reason I ask
is because on the last
coupla walks
I’ve stopped to talk
with a guy out running with his Vizsla
we don’t say much in particzsla
just stuff about the weathzsla
etcetzsla

I have to admit they’re a gorgeous pair!
panting and smiling there
jogging on the spot
stretching their hams and whatever they’ve got
totally working the woodland path
like a before and after photograph
both in headbands
fluorescent bibs
rangy legs and sculpted ribs
gold button eyes
hyper expressions
like they’ve only got a half of one second
to spare from their morning workout session
whereas me n’Stanley
on the other hand
shaggy and gangly
slouch across
like two stoned hippies lost
at Glastonbury
accidentally
wandering into the Wellness Zone
where dogs and owners are brushed & toned
running on treadmills for carbless bones
and we watch and wonder how driven they are
then wander off looking for Shangri-La

But hey
it’s okay
the guy just chose the breed
best designed to meet his needs
active, smart, with a burst of speed
something to help him finally achieve
those cardio-stats and great PBs
all downloaded for social sharing
from the lime green BarkBit bands they’re wearing

unexpected items in the bagging area

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

unexpected items in the bagging area
Dishy Rishi stashing the loot in
a bank account Infosys bagged off Putin;
Jeremy Hunt in a rented suit
for a cosplay cabinet photoshoot

unexpected items in the bagging area
a stop motion claymation Boris Johnson
trading looks with Gloria Swanson;
Michelle Mone in a golden basque
where it came from please don’t ask;

unexpected items in the bagging area
Nadim Zahawi’s market forces
ripping off nurses, heating horses;
Jacob Rees-Mogg and his coffin of fixes
Haribo haloes and crucifixes

unexpected items in the bagging area
Therese Miscoffelees in an amateur CATS
chewing the sets and smoking rats;
Oliver Dowdy stuck in a lift
giving his reflection pretty short shrift

unexpected items in the bagging area
Suella Braverman in beard and moustaches
plastic nose and big dark glasses;
Grant ‘Thor’ Shapps and his mythical hammer
on his way home to Tory Valhalla

Please wait! Someone is coming to assist you…

don’t give up the day job

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

don’t give up the day job
give up your dreams instead
resign yourself
to a life on the shelf
forget about your mental health
a dusty soul, a rusty heart
a destiny that fails to start

don’t give up the day job
what else d’you think you’ll do?
be realistic
you’re a statistic
no grounds at all to be optimistic
nothing you say is funny or special
join the line of empty vessels

don’t give up the day job
it suits you more than you know
glorified clerk
is about your mark
a low watt bulb in the general dark
years like leaves piling up in the yard
a bottle of wine, a birthday card

don’t give up the day job
you need us more than ever
it’s time to lose
the life you choose
you’ll end up drunk with a nasty bruise
a bonafide liability
so take a seat in our facility

don’t give up the day job
learn to knuckle down
stay on track
don’t look back
till you flatline after a heart attack
and look to us for guidance
– two thumbs up for good compliance

too hot for hats, actually

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

there was freezing fog
so I got togged up
to take the dog
for a jog
over the woods
(I wanted to say ‘bog’
but although it’s muddy
it’s short on frogs)

so
over my clothes
I pulled a cammo waterproof I chose
because it made me look like one of those
rough n tough commandos
I suppose
the kind of do-or-die
what-the-hell, all-weather guy
who, given the choice, would rather be dry

Stanley watched me, well-rehearsed
his expression that of a lurcher cursed

then lastly I took
my favourite beanie off the hat hook
like some kind of arty identity cook
mixing ingredients from a recipe book
to arrive at the perfectly balanced look

and with my ears nice n’snug
clipped on his lead and gave it a tug

now

I know you think I’m an exaggerator
but barely twenty minutes later
I was gasping hot as an alligator
in an overheated swamp around the equator
(if that’s where you find those toothy perps;
if not I’ll come back and redact the verse)

status update XXXVI

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

I’m lurching, searching, anything it takes / amoxicillin on a birthday cake / the teddy bear witness they thought was bluffing / squatting on the toybox shitting his stuffing

I’m a cruiser in the loser lounge / snoozing as the booze goes round / thumbs up, heels high, head down / suddenly taking myself to task / with a mobile phone and a 7 day pass / getting all zombie on your ass / calling and crawling on broken glass

I’m a kiwi fruit at banana time / Can’t Touch This by Rodgers & Hammer Time

I’m Theseus lost on a stag night / a minotaur with a maglite / don’t sweat it, it’s alright / the monsters they have for hire these days / are fully licensed to work in the maze

That’s me in the corner, a little bit awks / the deadhead opposite of great Ted Talks / body of a model on the bones of a horse / pretty much gone by all reports / a pair of cheap trainers, some boxer shorts

I’m heading to the river with a pocket of stones / a heart full of dreams, a head full of ringtones / is there room on the broom for a shit like me? / singing, talking endlessly / relentlessly / while miles below our dangling feet / the water sparkles cold and deep

I kneel to a bearded God in heaven / with my dog, my shades and my AK47

I’m boozy & cruisy / big time bougie / Willy Wonka wasted & woozy / looking for love and no longer choosy

I’m the Conservatives on a right wing Odyssey / with a flatpack sense of western democracy / dodgy money and rampant autocracy / the whole thing so broken it’s a total shock to me / talk to me / this patient needs urgent electoral surgery / wheel him straight through for a Toryotomy

So relax and let me take you back ta / the experience that was Margaret Thatcher / iron lady comin’ right at ya / you’d need a Peter Jackson to manufacture / that hairdo, handbag, demonic stature
she’s all like:
where there’s discord, bring forth harmony
where there’s riot, bring forth army
where there’s despair, bring forth hope
trident missiles and a periscope

GOTCHA!

dog-eared

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

Stanley likes to wear
his right ear
draped across his head, flat
like a flashy, fleshy kinda hat
instead of an actual example of that
(although speaking quite factually
I’ve never seen a lurcher in a hat like that, actually)

why he does this is a mystery
just part of his particular auricular history

maybe he’s part of an underground craze
how whippets and lurchers wear their ears these days

maybe it means he hears a lot better
(though when it rains his earhole gets wetter)

but I digress
it’s not worth getting stressed
they’re Stanley’s ears and Stanley knows best
there’s no rule saying you can’t walk around
one flap up and one flap down

status update XXXV

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

And Jesus sayeth unto the flock / supper’s ready at three o’clock / I scored some bread and a coupla fishes / more than enough for you hungry ass bitches / while upstairs God just thunders and twitches / bustin’ His voluminous, numinous britches / watching His sin plan’s galling glitches / His one overriding concern, which is / humans can’t see they’re blessed with riches / and He’ll need a big gesture to cross those bridges

Hark the business angels sing / business skills and marketing / receipts on earth and surveys mild / cloud-based data’s really wild

I’m social media influenza / in need of a Soul n’Soap dispenza

I’m a robot shivering with a dose of the shits / a box of screws and a bucket of bits

I’m a monster from The United Strays of America / a tweeting, TV ready chimaera / one part Trump, one Bagheera / slowly & steadily creeping nearer / roaring, tweeting, speaking, hidin’ / on the trail of Old King Biden

I’m a Netflix doc about psycho preachers / on the run for eating their teachers / slick in beanies, suits & boots / Al Pacino and Imogen Poots

I’m Elon Musk with a gaping beak / blue for you and ready to tweet / this freedom shit’s so cool and neat / especially if our great minds meet / but if they don’t delete delete

Hey! Hieronymous! How’re ya doin? / is your garden ready for viewin’? / what the hell, man – this stuff’s deranged / we always thought you were kinda strange / but we hoped you’d be a little more simpatico / all we wanted was a bougie patio

I’m an alien megabrain sucking its teeth / watching its craft as they depart underneath / we’ve been studying your planet and friends – to be brief / your lack of insight gives us grief / so accept this mission as an aperitif / to the crap that’ll happen if you don’t improve, chief

I’m Eastwood, Siegel, Heston, Bronson / a bullet clip and a packet of gum / bumper stickers: I love my mum / The Second Amendment thy will be done / my pickup truck thy diesel come / trespass forgiven now go ahead, run / Texas Rangers rule of thumb: / if it bleeds, man – I’m gettin’ me some

I’m Putin, Trump and Bolsonaro / caped on horses with bows and arrows / hard hearts closed and cold eyes narrowed / veins of poison threading their marrow / ready to shoot the teensiest sparrow / for daring to hope for a better tomorrow

it’s just like my dear ol’ grandma reckoned / there’s many a slip twixt cup and armageddon

the (un)divine comedy

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

They should put up a big red sign at Dover
a block print banner to flutter over
the border kiosks around the port
(to give you plenty of time to abort):
Abandon all hope, ye who enter here
which reads a little way south of severe
but let’s be honest and riotously clear
we’ve suffered the Tories for twelve long years

I mean – Dante described nine circles of Hell
but even HE would’ve baulked at TWELVE

We’ve had Cameron and his referendum
The Maybot jerking ad infinitum
the virus years of Boris the Clown
piffling and waffling, his pants falling down
and when he was finally tossed with the trash
a million years of a leadership clash
which no-one could vote for – SO ironic
ending up with Trussonomics
which kicked a hole in the economy – thanks
so she got fired for spooking the banks
and now the Austerity Brothers, Sunak & Hunt
who say they’re honest but let’s be blunt
one’s a banker and the other’s a former health minister, I think?

but

at least the PM knows about struggle
with worries that’d make the rest of us buckle
it must be hard getting by when you’re wealthy
houses in Kensington, apartments in Chelsea
mansions in Yorkshire, Santa Monica
that’s why you’ll find him playing harmonica
‘Spare some change? I’m overwhelmed;
those swimming pools won’t fill themselves’

anyway

two more years and then we vote
one last chance to stay afloat
but if that fails then – shrug – oh well
I’ll skateboard screaming through the circles of hell

let there be lurcher

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

1: In the beginning Dog opened his eyes, and there was the heavens and the earth.

2: Now the earth was formless and empty, as it was only around six thirty, and Man hath not descended yet for breakfast, as it was not his day of work, so was sleeping in late, which for him was great, but not so much for Dog, and the Spirit of Dog, forlornly yawning on the sofa.

3: And Dog thought Let there Be Light, and there WAS light, because FINALLY Man appeared looking a fright, scratching his head all wild from his bed, yawning, saying unto Dog ‘Good Morning’

4: Dog saw that breakfast was light, and the chances of a walk were bright.

5: Dog called the light ‘Walk’ and the darkness ‘Not Walk’. And apart from ‘Food’ and ‘Not Food’, and a few other things, that was about the sum of it, for he was Dog, and not known for his conversation.

6: And Dog said: ‘Let there be a Vault to separate Walk from Not Walk.’

7: So Dog allowed the Vault which separated Walk from Not Walk. And it was so.

8: Although… to be honest…. I think he meant ‘Harness’ not ‘Vault’. But he’s a rough-haired lurcher so it’s not his fault.

9: And Dog said: ‘I don’t care that it’s pouring with rain in one place, for dry ground will appear’. And it was so. Because Dog hath special weather forecasting skills, you know.

10: Dog called the dry ground ‘Great’ and the gathered waters he called ‘Shake’. And Dog saw that it was good.

11: Then Dog said, ‘Let me stop at every scrap of vegetation, every seed bearing lamppost, tree with seeds, in fact anything vaguely seedy, for my bladder is grievously full and needy, and I must mark my favourite spots most diligently. And it was so.

12: And for a land with SO many seedy spots, impressively so.

13: And Time speedeth up, and Dog lost track. And only came back when he couldst be sure of a snack. And Dog had a good and godly run. And Dog saw his Bowl, laden with all manner of things to eat. And his tail didst beat. And Dog didst scran till his tag on the bowlside rang.

14: And so ended the morning of the First Day. And Dog saw all he had done, and was amazed.